SaturDay Nite
by kataract52
Summary: Sequel to Saturday Morning. Gambit, his daughter, and Rogue spend a sleepy summer in Valle Soleade. The trouble with standing still is your problems eventually catch up. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Author's Notes: **This is a sequel to Saturday Morning, where Rogue takes her stepdaughter out for a day on the town. Both stories are set during the X-Treme era, when Rogue and Gambit are powerless. They've briefly retired to a Valle Soleada, California, where Gambit is tracked down by his daughter, Honor. "Johnny" is her godfather, who helped her find Gambit after Belle's death. This story has a little more angst and slightly more mature themes than Morning, so I decided to post it separately. Please R&R!

**SaturDay Nite**

_Jean-Luc had to wrestle the boy out of his clothes. Henri was __**right**__ – he wasn't worth the trouble! If Remy wanted to smell like shit, Jean-Luc was half-obliged to let him! Of course, it wasn't Remy's fault that he didn't trust Jean-Luc or think he needed a bath. No, he had __**learned**__ these things, and it would be very hard to __**un-learn**__ them. As the clothes came off, the scars became visible. Remy wouldn't discuss them… Perhaps he thought he'd been born with them._

_Jean-Luc clamped down on Remy's neck to keep his still in the tub of warm water. It __**had**__ been hot, but in the time it took to actually get him __**into**__ the tub, the water had since gone cool. Even the luke-warm water frightened Remy. He said it was too hot; Jean-Luc was trying to __**cook**__ him, he'd said. Jean-Luc was patient with the boy, telling him stories about his own youth while scrubbing behind Remy's ears. He had to rinse his hair out with a large cup, and his soft, cinnamon-colored hair fell past his pointed chin. And after the bath, Remy got a haircut. He sat quietly for that – maybe he'd run himself rugged fighting against the bath. Next, Jean-Luc wanted to cut his fingernails. They were long and jagged with black dirt caked beneath them. Remy didn't protest this, either. The two of them set patiently in the parlor while the Guildmaster cut and filed a child's nails. _

_His exhaustive day was well worth the trouble. True to his word, Jean-Luc gave Remy his very own bed with a big, soft pillow and big, clean blankets_

Honor brushed her teeth, rinsed her mouth out, and then inspected her pearly whites. She had her mother's top teeth. Her two front teeth were very straight and stood out slightly further from the rest, just like Belle's. Apparently, they passed the test, because she turned and joined her father in the doorway.

"Ready for bed?" Remy asked her.

The guest bedroom that Remy and Rogue had set up for her was nicer than the hotels Honor had been staying in for the last several months… When she got a hotel room at all. But this room wasn't _hers_ any more than those rented rooms had been. She hoped that one day soon, Remy would offer to buy her a new bedspread – one _she'd_ picked out.

They knelled beside the bed, folded their hands and closed their eyes. But Honor knew Remy wouldn't pray. He never did. She didn't mind praying for him.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, in Heaven, as on earth. Absolve, we beseech Thee, O Lord, de soul of Thy servant, Momma, from every bond of sin, dat being raised in de glory of de resurrection, she may be refreshed among de Saints and Elect. T'rough Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," Remy echoed, glad she hadn't thanked God for Rogue and Remy, said a prayer for Johnny and another for the Guild in New Orleans. When she was feeling frisky, she'd thank God for every breath and luxury. She was careful not to ask for too much, but she always asked for her mother's salvation.

He softly tucked the covers around her neck and shoulders. She smiled up at him, completely content with her place in the world.

"Now where _were_ we?" He asked, stroking his chin with concentration. He wasn't good at many things, at least not many things he could share with his daughter, but he was good at weaving tales. She loved stories and he loved talking about himself, so this was something they could bond over.

So much of the time, she was sullen and quiet. He couldn't blame her. Considering everything she'd suffered recently, she was coping rather well. But he loved making her smile, and stories at bed time made her whole face brighten. She was bubbling with excitement when she reminded him: "Cassim broke int' de place and seduced de princess t' get her jewels. But she fell in love wit' him and asked him t' take her wit' him, 'cause she didn't wanna marry de wicked General Khalid! And you were gonna tell me t'night whether or not he took her wit' him."

"What you t'ink happen?"

"_Mais_… I know Cassim wouldn't take her. He _couldn't_. He's too good a t'ief, and de princess is too important. But I'd _like_ to t'ink she left wit' him, and dey had adventures in de desert t'gether."

"Like what?"

"Like… Maybe Cassim took de princess t' meet de sorcerer who raised 'm. He'd have t' teach her how t' rob and fight and stuff. Being a princess, she wouldn't know how to do any of dat."

"You're right. Dey did all dat stuff t'gether."

"Did he teach her his magic?"

"Of course. He loved de princess, too. When you love someone, you wanna share everyt'ing wit' dem. And it came in real handy when a sand storm threatened t' destroy Mecca."

"Is dat de story?"

"Not t'night," he said casually. "Just know all dat stuff happened. Cassim and de princess met up wit' his old marauder band – remember dem? – and dey decided t' hit Pharaoh's boat on de way down de Nile. Cassim was worried his princess would see all de beautiful jewels and wanna go back t' her old life wit' bon-bon's and servants. It ain't easy bein' a pirate's wife."

"Is dat what happened?" Honor asked.

"_Non_. It was somet'ing much worse. De General Khalid found out Cassim and de princess would be stealin', so he cursed a necklace dat he knew de princess would keep. She fought de curse for several nights, but eventually de D'jinn attached t' de necklace possessed her. It made her drive Cassim deep int' de Sahara and leave 'm dere. Den she went back t' de General."

"But Cassim could use his magic," Honor offered.

Remy shook his head. "Nothin' but sand, _petite_."

"Didn't she come t' her senses?"

"Of course. But by den, it was too late. De Sahara a _big_ place! He get lost real easy!"

"What happened?" she asked, sitting up and leaning forward. She folded her hands in a display of patience, but he could hear her breath quicken.

"It's very tragic. I don' know if maybe-"

"Don't make me wait until tomorrow, Remy!" She pleaded, grabbing his hand. "Come on, how bad could it be? He's been lost in de dessert before!"

"Oh, dis time was much worse…"

"How could it be worse den last time? Last time de armies killed his father and cut off Cassim's toes. Dey drove him out of de city like a dog! Even his _oncles_ turned him away, and he was just a _petit garcon_!"

"For t'ree days, he wondered de dessert," said Remy. "Dat might not sound so bad, but t'ree days wit'out water or shelter will kill a man in de Sahara. His skin turned black and his tongue swelled up in his mouth. Sometimes he t'ought he felt cool again, but it was just his nerves dyin'. And de sand got _everywhere_. It got in his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Oh, he was so hungry. He was dyin' a' hunger and thrist. He woulda given all his thoughts and magic for a cup of water and loaf of bread."

"But de worst part was his broken heart, wasn't it?" she quietly asked. She suddenly seemed so much older than her eleven years: so much wiser. Johnny said she got this way sometimes. He called it "Otherworldly", and Remy felt a chill from her sudden change. They'd gone from talking about stories to very real and painful experiences.

"_Oui, petite_. Dat was de worst part."

She turned her head slightly away and he saw tears on her face.

"What's de matter?" he asked, resisting the urge to cradle her. Too often, he wanted to treat her like an infant. She wasn't really a child or an adult, though, and he had no idea how to handle her.

"I just… Don't like hearing about my papa hurtin'," her voice trembled like a little girl's.

It was the first time she'd called him by anything other than his name, and he was deeply touched. Throwing his uncertainties and inhibitions aside, he wiped her tears away and held her close.

"It's okay," he said lightly. "I got out in one piece."

"_Cómo_? Didn't you want to crawl in a cave and die? De princess tried t' kill you!"

He smiled at her and the worry eased from her eyes a little. "Cassim did crawl int' a cave wit' de intentions of dyin'. He said his death prayers. And as he lay dyin', he thought about de princess. He thought about a lot of t'ings… Those close t' dying can see t'ings de livin' can't. So while Cassim was in de cave, he saw his guardian angel. De angel told Cassim he could not die because he had no soul."

"He sold it for magic," Honor remembered.

"Cassim t'ought his soul went t' hell," said Remy, "But hell is for de body, not de soul. De angel told him his soul now lived in a little girl in Mecca. She was an orphan, just like Cassim. She was pure, and needed Cassim's help. De angel gave him two choices: he could take Cassim's body t' Heaven or Cassim could stay on earth and find his soul. De first one was easy. All he had t' do was take de angel's hand and be led away. De second wasn't easy. But it was de only way t' make up for all de terrible t'ings he'd done." He paused and looked at his watch, "And dat's it for t'night."

Honor smiled smugly. "I know how _dis_ one ends."

He pushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed it. "G'night, _catin_."

"_Noches_, Papa."

He softly closed the door and walked down the hallway to the living quarters. He had to walk through the kitchen to reach the living room, where he expected to find Rogue. Instead, she was at the sink, washing dishes with compressed rage.

"Y' alright, _chere_?"

"_Fine_."

He shook his head and moved into the living room. She must've overheard him telling Honor his child-friendly version of what happened in Antarctica. He wouldn't apologize for it. Honor needed to know (she had a _right_ to), and he'd rather tell her about it himself than have someone _else_ tell her. Rogue probably felt cheated because he hadn't included her true reason for leaving him: his role in the Morlock Massacre. Sometimes that girl really was too naïve for her own good. Honor's mother was a professional killer. When she finally learned the details of that horrible day, she wouldn't bat an eye. Death and murder were just parts of life for her. It was certainly no excuse for Rogue's behavior. At least to Honor, betrayal was much worse than killing.

"Ah heard ya on the phone with Storm," Rogue said at last.

He turned and looked at her. While 'On was cooking dinner and Rogue was setting the table, Remy made a quick call to New York. He'd told the X-Men about his daughter and asked Stormy to be her godmother. What was she so pissed about?

"_And?"_ He replied.

"So what am Ah like?" she asked bitterly.

He barked out a laugh. Stormy knew Rogue better than Rogue did, apparently. What kind of a person gets jealous over a little girl who's lost everything and everyone she's ever known, and is suddenly dumped on a man she's never met? Rogue did. It was true: he spent more time with Honor, and he worked very hard to earn her trust and love. If Rogue didn't understand why he was completely committed to his child, then she was even more naïve than he thought. They'd moved to California with the agreement of a trial relationship, but she didn't act that way. She expected him to come home every night, not to flirt with other women, and involve her in his plans. She was even worse since Honor arrived. Rogue expected an automatic place in their family, but he didn't think she deserved one. Sometimes she was helpful, like taking Honor clothes shopping today, but an occasional hand didn't make her Honor's guardian. Honor needed someone who could be committed to _her_, regardless of Remy. She needed someone like Stormy.

"Y' a little green today, and it doesn't suit you," he told her.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You got somet'ing t' say, _chere_, just _say_ it."

"Storm ain't even _met_ her yet! Ah'm the one with her every day! Ah'm the one givin' her advice and treachin' her how to be a lady. Ah know this ain't exactly something you planned on, but it'd be nice to know you at least _want_ me in her life!"

"Y' right about one t'ing, I didn't plan on dis. How many kids you raised? 'Cause I know _I'm_ makin' it up as we go along."

"Ya ain't gotta guess all by yourself! Ah can help. Ah don't know why ya think you've gotta do everything alone… It's because of what Johnny said, ain't it? Belle never brought her beaus around Honor, so you wanna raise her the same way. Is that it?"

"_Non_, Rogue. Look, I love you, _chere_. I've always wanted somet'ing more den what we got – whatever dis is. And as long as you're in my life, I want you in Honor's life, too. But dat girl's too good for me. When I was her age, I couldn't spell m' own name! She puts down 800 pages like nursery rhymes! De best I can do is put her wit' people good enough for her. I want her t' go t' medical school and put a man on Jupiter and build de world's biggest library. De _rest_ of m' life is gonna be about dat. Is dat what you want?"

In her bedroom, Honor could hear every word. She waited in the dark for Rogue's answer, but it never came. Finally, she heard her father gently let Rogue off the hook.

"You only twelve years older den she is," he said. "You're just as confused about who you are and what you want. I want you t' stay wit' me more den _anyt'ing_, chere, but I ain't got time for games. If dat's all you want, you need t' find someone else t' play."

"It ain't that, Remy. Ah just… Ah feel like she's _replaced_ me. How can I stay with a man who doesn't love me?"

"You can't," he replied.

Silence filled their tiny house by the ocean. In her room, Honor lie still in her bed. Tears had soaked her pillow. She understood why her mother never invited men into her life. Relationships were upsetting. What couldn't Rogue just accept Remy for who he was? Why did she constantly put demands on him? And why did he continue to build her hopes up, knowing he couldn't make her happy?

Honor sat up and wiped her face dry. All her weeping had caused her sinuses to close up – she couldn't breathe now. She sniffed a few times, but it didn't help. So she crawled out of bed to get some tissue from the bathroom. There was a soft night-light in the hallway, but the rest of the house was dark. She could hear something in the kitchen, but she couldn't be sure what it was. Peaking quietly around the corner, she wasn't even sure what she saw until they fell to the floor.

"Honor!" Remy shouted. "Go t' your room!"

She gasped and turned around so quickly that she ran into the wall. It made a loud _bang_ as they scrambled to pull their clothes back on. She ran all the way back to her room and slammed the door. It didn't have a lock, so she pushed the dresser in front of it. She forgot about the lamp on top, and it crashed and broke nosily on the floor. Then she crawled under her covers and sobbed whole-heartedly. Predictably, Remy did come to her door and try to apologize, but she didn't answer. More than anything in the world, she just wanted her mother back.


	2. Sunday Morning

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

**Author's Note: **This chapter has more laughs than the last one. There should possibly be a higher rating for sex talk, but if you freely roam the internet, trust me, you already know how babies are made.

**Sunday Morning**

When Honor finally came out of her room, she was very quiet. She walked against the walls like a rat and kept her eyes on the floor. At least she hadn't tried to run away in the middle of the night. She moved around the kitchen like a ghost: Rogue was always amazed by her stealth abilities. Of course, if she made a little noise sometimes, this whole awkward aftermath might've been avoided. When she finally settled at the table with her grits and toast, Remy finally tried to broach the subject.

"_Catin_, about last night, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't mean to. I was just excited."

Black and blood eyes firmly on her spoon, she merely nodded.

"And I'm sorry 'bout… What you saw. I certainly didn't mean for dat, either."

Again, a silent nod.

Rogue could see that Honor was suffering. Like Remy, she was trying to bury an unpleasant memory. He'd made his peace and she clearly didn't want to acknowledge it, so as far as Rogue was concerned, the matter was settled. Time to change the subject. She went to the freezer and told Honor: "Whenever my momma had a bad night, you know what she had the next mornin' to make herself feel better?"

Honor looked up at Rogue expectantly.

"She'd make an eggo and put big scoops of ice-cream on it," Rogue finished, pulling out the box of eggo waffles and chocolate-chip cookie-dough ice-cream. "Ah think we could all use a treat."

Honor's face split open into a mischievous grin. "_Ice-cream_ for _breakfast_?"

"Yep. You wanna get the plates?"

Her uncertain but hopeful eyes looked to her father, and when he didn't protest, she leapt out of her chair to get plates and forks. While her back was turned, Rogue flashed Remy a confident smile.

"Anything special ya wanted to do today?" Rogue asked her.

For once, Honor did have a plan. "I'd like t' ride my bike today. But it's been so long, de tires are prob'ly flat."

"Ah'll take ya up to the gas station and we can fill'm back up."

Rogue should've figured Honor would want to be outside and alone today. Remy got the same way whenever he wanted to sort through his thoughts. The two of them were more alike than they'd ever know. At least once a day, Remy would tell Honor or Rogue that his little girl was so much smarter or kinder or better than he was at her age. Rogue tried pointing out that Honor had a lot more advantages: a mother, a home, an education… If Remy had been given any of those things, he could've been just as smart and kind and good. But ever the cynic, he said: "Sayin' y' _could_ do it, and actually _doin'_ it are two different t'ings, _chere_."

After ice-cream and waffles for breakfast, Rogue grabbed a shower and Honor got dressed. As usual, the younger girl wore boots, black leggings, a little dress (white today), and big sunglasses. Her milky white arms were bare, and Rogue knew they'd be bright red by the time she got home. She rubbed sun blocker on Honor's face, shoulders and arms, and then they drove to the gas station with Honor's bike strapped to the back of the convertible.

"Ah'll just leave ya there," Rogue said. "It's about three miles from the house. Ya can just ride back. Ya know the way, right?"

"Yeah."

Rogue sighed into the silence. How Remy ever got this child to talk, she'd never know. They'd had such a good day yesterday. Rogue thought maybe things would be different now: maybe Honor would actually interact with her freely. Instead, every day was a battle. It never seemed to matter how much they bonded. Every day, Rogue had to prove herself again.

"Ya alright, sug? You're quiet, even for you."

Honor slowly turned her head towards Rogue. "You and my papa were havin' sex last night, weren't you?"

Rogue's face burned. "Yes we were. Ah'm _really_ sorry you saw that. We thought you were asleep, sugah." Then, she added to herself: "Ah _told_ him it was a bad idea."

"Do you _want_ t' get pregnant?"

"Not right now…" Rogue's stomach knotted. "That ain't the only reason people do that. We're taking precautions."

"What?"

"Precautions. You know, methods to prevent getting knocked up."

Honor raised an eyebrow, and Rogue remembered she was talking to a girl. Her understanding of sex was very limited and probably a little obscure.

"Birth control," Rogue finally said. "_Condoms_. Do you know what that is?"

Honor was quiet, but her gaze was very intense. Finally, she said: "Momma said only bad girls use condoms."

Rogue's whole head burned bright red. She gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles hurt, and she mentally counted to ten before she responded. "That ain't true, baby. People use condoms when they don't wanna get pregnant or catch a disease. Ah use 'm because Ah can't take birth control pills. With mutants, ya never can be sure how they'll react to medication, and that ain't something you wanna gamble on."

"I didn't mean t' make y' mad, Rogue. I knew Momma lied t' me about a lot a' t'ings.

"Well, Ah'm sure she had her reasons, sugah."

"She told me babies came from de cabbage patch."

Rogue waited for Honor to smile so she knew it was a joke… But she never grinned. Rogue tried to cover her own laugh and said: "Are ya bein' serious?"

"_Sí, sí_. I asked her where I came from, and she told me de cabbage patch. Made sense at de time. M' birthday's in September, which is harvest time. And Cajuns call dere little kids _mon chou_, so it all made sense t' me."

Rogue shook with repressed laughter. The funniest part was Honor's unflinching seriousness. Her voice was steady and hollow, as if describing a traumatic event, and her eyes were dark and wide.

"Ya got the truth eventually," Rogue said. "Didn't you?"

"_Sí, sí._ Some boys on de playground finally told me."

"Boys on the playground?" Rogue tried to keep the horror out her voice and failed.

"_Yeah!_ Momma made me look like a real _idiot!_ I mean, I knew de cabbage t'ing was total malarkey, but I didn't know de truth was so much worse! I was so mad at her! When I got home, I _t'rew_ my book bag on de ground and called her a _liar_. Her face got all white and she said 'Whatchyou talkin' 'bout, chere?' When her face gets white, dat's how you _know_ she's in trouble! And I told her dat babies didn't come from de _cabbage patch_ and sex was _gross_. And she just fell over laughin' – like you tryin' not t' do right now! She said, 'Ya wanna talk about it?' And I said, 'No! You're disgustin'!' Dat got her all serious, but I wouldn't listen t' her den. I locked myself in m' room, and I t'ink she was too embarrassed t' bring it up again."

"She wasn't embarrassed," Rogue said seriously. "She knew questions about sex would lead to questions about your papa, and she didn't want to talk about him."

The car pulled into the gas station by the air pump. Honor went to step outside, but Rogue grabbed her wrist and held her still.

"What did the boys on the playground tell you?"

She shrugged and looked away. "Dey said you have t' have sex t' make a _bébé_. Dat a man and a woman take all dere clothes off and rub dere privates t'gether. Den de man's prick plants a seed in de woman's cunt, and nine months later, she shits out a _bébé_."

Rogue thought she could handle the matter with more confidence and grace than Belle, but she found herself completely dumbfounded. She had no idea that 'On knew what these words meant, let alone how to use them in a sentence. So instead of taking the opportunity to educate and bond with her stepdaughter, she let Honor get out of the car, fill up her bicycle tires with air, and ride down the highway.


	3. Sunday Night

**Disclaimer:** I do not own.

**Author's Notes: **More sexual situations…. Again. _(Sigh)_ Sorry, I just can't help myself. ACTUALLY I wanted to provide a nice contrast between Honor and Gambit like I did in chapter one. She's 11 going on twelve and in the flashback he's thirteen, so it's not precise but still... I enjoy reading and writing flashbacks, hope you do, too. I really hadn't planned on adding to this story and I don't know if I will in the future. I know it's not gathering a whole lotta comments, but it is being added to people's favorites, which is just as good to me. Thanks to all my silent readers! If you enjoy, please review!

**Sunday Night**

_It was Bella Donna's thirteenth birthday and her thirteenth birthday party. Remy had only gotten __**one**__ in his whole life. His pére picked December 14__th__ because it had been his father's birthday and guessed at Remy's age, saying he looked Belle's age. The second year after his adoption, Jean-Luc surprised him with a cake and a chess set. Henri and Mercy and Tante Mattie came over for dinner and were extra kind to him, but he'd never gotten __**anything**__ like Bella Donna did. It seemed like the whole city turned out, dressed in their Sunday best and carrying gifts wrapped in pretty paper and ribbons. She wouldn't even __**remember**__ all her presents! He thought about pinching one or two, but they were probably only things __**girls**__ would want – like a bracelet or perfume. _

_Mercy called Bella Donna a "princess" with disgust and humor, but Remy thought she was right. Her life was a fairy tale and she lived in a castle. Maybe that kind of stuff made girls starry-eyed, but it made him uncomfortable. He found the overly-kind words between enemies and strangers unbearable. So he snuck off to her room while his father was busy. He could've gone anywhere… Why he picked __**her**__ room, he could only call fate._

_He heard someone coming and hid in the closet. Through the wooden slots, he saw Bella Donna slam the door behind her and quickly pull off her dress and stockings. She was wearing white cotton panties and a bra under a slip that might've passed for a dress itself. He would never understand girls. How many layers of clothes did they really __**need**__? She turned to her heirloom dresser and pulled out a drawer, reached inside and – suddenly froze. Like a scene from a nightmare, she turned very, very slowly towards the closet. Remy held his breath and tried to make himself invisible, but Belle walked towards him like a wolf on the trail. She opened the closet door and gasped at seeing him. But then she sighed and smiled. She'd always had a soft spot for him, and she was the only girl he ever felt easy around. Being a princess meant being a virgin, but Belle didn't mind kissing him and letting him touch her wherever he wanted. Jean-Luc said he didn't have to do those things anymore, and he should never let a grown-up do these things to him. For a long time, Remy was glad for it. But Belle made him __**want**__ to. _

_Finally being alone in her bedroom gave them the chance to run wild with their urges. Remy had had sex lots of different way with lots of different people, but Belle was different. She sat him down on her bed and said she was going to "make him pretty". She put lip stick on his mouth and he didn't mind. Then she kissed him and he saw the red shadow left behind on her lips. He laid down on top of her and felt the thrill of victory when he got between her legs. The sex was gentle and rushed, awkward but natural. She didn't mind the initial pain, but didn't know what to do after that. He had never cared about any girl so much and it wasn't long at all before he was done. He was proud of himself for actually ejaculating, but she didn't even notice until she sat up and it ran down her legs._

"_Ain_?" said Remy, "Whachya mean, she don' know 'bout sex?"

"Ah think ya heard me fine," Rogue answered, helping him fold the laundry heaped on their bed.

She'd just dropped Honor off a few miles away with her bicycle, so they had the house to themselves for the first time in four weeks. Remy would've walked through the door half-dressed and thrown her on the floor. But Rogue was glad to speak about the girl without being overheard. This house was _too_ small. When Honor shuffled into the bathroom late at night, Rogue could hear her pee. So she knew Honor could hear their every word, whether or not she _wanted_ to.

"Belle told her that babies come from the cabbage patch," Rogue continued, "Ah think she musta been awfully young when she said it... Only Honor would hold on ta something like that. Belle tried correctin' her later, but by then she'd heard the truth from a couple of boys on the playground, and wouldn't listen ta a word she said."

He dropped the jeans he'd been folding and looked distraught. "_Boys on de playground?"_

He slumped boneless on the bed, and Rogue didn't understand his anxiety. She folded three of Honor's little dresses before saying carelessly, "There are worse ways ta learn, sugah."

His distant eyes suddenly sharpened at her. "You don' t'ink dey _showed_ her, do you?"

"What?" She laughed boldly at his silly imagination. "No, Ah don't!"

"But you don' _know_."

"No, Ah really _don't_ think they did. Kids like ta talk about that kinda stuff, especially boys. Makes 'm feel _smart_." She moved to his shirts, hanging them in the closet while he sat motionless.

His head craned to follow her. "But you don' _know_. Anyt'ing coulda happened t' her!"

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Yeah, maybe they took her to one of those infamous New Orleans riverboats. Let her see firsthand how it's done. Then they took her ta Mardi Gras and she got her first string of beads! Remy, where ya goin'?"

His ears burned red and his eyes were almost solid black. He was pulling on his boots and was nearly out the door before Rogue realized he was leaving without a word. When she called, he turned around and snapped, "I'm goin' t' get _ma fille!_ I can't believe y' _dropped_ her off in de middle a' nowhere! Anyt'ing could happen t' her!"

Rogue was too stunned to reply and it was best that he was already leaving. She could've _strangled_ him! The nerve of that man! He acted as though she'd _forced_ Honor into the car without his knowledge and drove her far, far away so she could never return! For the first time since they'd moved in together, she wanted to pack up and leave him. Things hadn't turned out the way she'd hoped. First, he blamed her for them being without their powers, then he wouldn't commit beyond sharing living quarters. Now Honor was here, and even though it wasn't her fault, the little girl was stealing all of his… his… _everything!_ She got his _commitment_ and _forgiveness_ and _attention_! If that's what Remy wanted to be happy, then Rogue was happy for him, but there wasn't room for her in his life. Why should she try to _earn_ a place with them? _She_ wasn't the one who'd married a woman and then abandoned her pregnant! _She_ had nothing to atone for! Somewhere in this world was a man who could love and accept her, and she was finished trying to find that man in Remy LeBeau.

…

The brakes smoked and the tires squealed once he spotted Honor. She was riding her bike, perfectly unharmed. Once he saw for himself that no monsters lurked in her shadow, his fears vanished like vapor in the wind. He felt ridiculous. After Honor spotted him, she raised a quizzical eye brow and then he felt guilty, too.

"Everyt'ing _bien_?" she asked, stopping her bike across the street from his stopped car.

"_Oui_. I… I was worried. Sorry."

"_D'accord._" She waited for him to dismiss her or call her home. She was such a good kid.

"We'll see y' when y' get home," he told her, dying a little bit. Then he drove away, watching her get smaller and smaller in his rear-view mirror. She was holding his heart hostage. "Get a grip, LeBeau," he told himself. His sanity was returning in bits and pieces now, and he felt serenity for a moment or two. Then he remembered what a mess he was going home to…

Rogue had a bag packed and was working on the second when he walked in. They looked at each other and he could see tears in her eyes and on her face. He _hated_ making her cry.

"Chere-"

"_No!_ Ya don't need me, don't want me-"

"I'm sorry."

"Ah've _had_ it! Ah'm gone!"

"Chere, now wait!" he took her hands and made her face him. "I know I ain't been right lately. It's dis postpartum t'ing… Once I lose de bébé weight, everyt'ing gonna be fine."

She laughed and he felt at ease.

"Ah can laugh and still be mad, ya know," she told him, pulling her hands away and packing again. She moved slower than before, though, which meant she wanted to be talked out of it.

"I'm scared all de time, Rogue," he said seriously. "I ain't got m' powers anymore… I ain't got de protection of Xavier, and we got a lot of enemies… And now I got dis _tite fille_."

"Ain't _my_ fault," she snapped.

"I know."

"And you ain't goin' through anything _alone_."

"I know. I'm sorry, _chere_."

She stopped packing, sighed, and sat down on the bed. Looking at her hands with sad, green eyes, she said, "Why do you tell her _everything?_... She doesn't even ask."

He wanted to say, 'She deserves to know.' But he knew Rogue was really asking, 'Why can't you tell me everything, too?' At this point in their relationship, maybe Rogue _did_ deserve to know a little more than he'd shared with her. But she only wanted to know out of curiosity. She wasn't world-wise or even very sympathetic. When it came right down to the point, Rogue just didn't understand him the way Honor did. Or Belle, even. What sort a child interrupts a bed-time story as the life of her father? More impressive still – what sort of child has the maturity to decipher the tales and place herself in the story-teller's shoes? She had a very old, very wise soul. Maybe one day, Rogue would understand all this for herself. Until she figured it out, he couldn't tell her the truth.

"She's my girl," he said evenly.

"Who am Ah?"

"Rogue… You ain't my daughter."

"Ah ain't _*Stormy*,_ either," she said spitefully.

He took a deep breath to keep from hitting her below the belt, which was where she was placing all her hits.

"Ah'm sorry, that was uncalled for. Ah think Ah'm gonna go ta the beach today."

"Good idea," he spat back.

.::.

Monday night was a strange time for a concert, but musicians didn't like to work the weekend anymore than anyone else. The whole town turned out. _Lila Cheney_ in Valle Soleada! A concert was more than just music – it was more than just the re-playing of songs you may or may not like. It was the joining together of people with a common purpose; a chance to re-connect with people outside your own house. And for _that_, Honor was thankful. Her father and Rogue had been behaving strangely ever since her bike ride the day before, and she was irritated with constantly being placed between them. They'd been joined at the hip (and jaw and wrist and nose…) since she met them. Did they _really_ think she wouldn't notice the change? But whatever was going on, she was glad to ignore it. The concert gave her a chance to socialize, which she didn't mind in small doses with friendly acquaintances.

The old ladies talked about the activities they were planning for the new school year. (Maybe she'd try out for softball?) The young ladies showed off their new babies or growing bellies which housed future babies. (Aren't they just precious?) There weren't any children Honor's age, and the men seemed very awkward around her. In little towns like Valle Soleada, the lines between cliques are firmly drawn, and being female placed her across the line.

Fifteen minutes late, the lights finally dimmed and the drums shook her teeth. It was just like the old days –when Johnny used to sing at her mother's bar. And although Honor had a very cool reputation to maintain, she didn't mind tapping her foot and bobbing her head to the songs she liked. Lila didn't do a lot of dancing and costume changes, like she did in her big city concerts. It was just her and the music, and when she really felt the energy, she danced like a bird in the wind. The world felt transformed by her performance.

Afterwards, the town trickled back home. Nothing moved too quickly around here. Honor, Rogue and Remy were going to get sundaes afterwards, but before they left, a large man dressed all in black told Remy, "Ms. Cheney would like a word."

Rogue's eyes caught fire.

"I hate t' leave a beautiful lady waitin', but I'm afraid m' words are spoken for, _mon ami_." Remy said so smoothly that Rogue relaxed, even though he wasn't speaking to her.

Honor smiled up at her father, unexplainably proud of the way he'd handled the situation. He smiled back and winked at her and she felt a little more special than she had before. He had this power over her that she didn't understand. When he complimented or scolded her, it meant so much. Her mother could make her feel beautiful or worthless, too, but Honor didn't think her father deserved this power because he hadn't been there like Momma.

"Understood," the man said curtly. "Actually, she hoped you'd decline. It's work related." He handed Remy a small, white envelope. "Your reputation precedes you, Mr. LeBeau, and Ms. Cheney's prepared to reimburse you. Have a good evening, folks."

Remy watched the man leave and then turned away. "Who's ready for ice-cream?"

To Honor, it was the perfect end to a perfect day. Momma never stopped for ice-cream unless she had very upsetting news, but once she discovered that her father really just wanted to get ice-cream, she was more than happy. She told him every story she knew about the desert, from what flavors her mother ate when pregnant to the last sundae she had with Johnny. But Rogue was miserable. She said she'd share with Remy, but only poked her spoon into his mound of vanilla ice-cream with rainbow sprinkles. She didn't much care for Honor's stories. She knew something Honor didn't – Remy was only generous when he was leaving. He'd already made up his mind to help Lila Cheney with her… _job_. Chances were good, he knew about it long before the concert. Hell, it might've been her whole reason for coming to little Valle Soleada.

Once they were bloated with sweets and re-lived memories, the three of them loaded back into Rogue's red convertible and headed home. All the people from the concert earlier had vanished, and they were alone on the highway. Honor rested her head against the window and looked up at the moon. For once since arriving here, she didn't feel so achingly alone. She caught her father looking at her through the rear-view mirror and smiled at him.

"I'm goin' off," he said boldly. "Takin' de job wit' Lila-"

Rogue sighed and turned away from him, clearly chocking on a response.

Honor looked up at the mirror. His black and red eyes were on her. Quietly, she asked, "Are you comin' back?"

"You t'ink I leave you, _catin_? Never."

Rogue was livid.

.::.

Remy saw Honor to bed with their usual prayers and stories. Rogue liked to listen to them, even though it hurt sometimes. She liked to pretend she was part of their little family. She couldn't remember much about her father. While she recalled he was a kind man, he'd been nothing like the doting father Remy turned out to be. She envied Honor. _Envy_. Why should she?... Honorita deserved all the love that man had to give, but Rogue… Well, she did not. Honor and Remy knew it, but they'd been too kind to throw her out. Now she knew it, too, and she had only to _act_ on what she discovered.

Remy turned out Honor's light, walked through the living room, kissed Rogue on the cheek and left without a word to her. He acted like he didn't even _want_ her around anymore. Not only did he not say good-bye when he left, but he also left without discussing his decision. Why was it so _hard_ for him to include her in his life? She stayed right where he left her, sitting on the sofa with a beer bottle nestled between her hands. Eventually, she turned out the light, so Honor wouldn't be disturbed. But she didn't move all night. She sat there and pondered how her life had ended up at this point. He'd left without saying good-bye, and she knew when he left for good, he'd go the same way. The distance between them was too great to close entirely. Should she stay with a man she couldn't be completely bonded to? That wasn't fair to either one of them. While their problems had never really been resolved, they'd been brought painfully to the surface by Honor. Rogue didn't resent the girl… She resented what she _represented_. So much of Remy was scattered. He'd lost his virginity to this person, first given his heart to that person, married this person, loved that one. Maybe the notion was vain, but she'd hoped she'd be the first to give him a child. She _desperately_ wanted to have something of him that no one else could have. Now that dream, like so many others, had died. She loved that man with all her heart, and she had for _so_ long. She'd been so sure that they were made for each other, like the flower and bee. It was his destiny to come to Valle Soleada, and it had been hers, too. But their paths now seemed to fork, and it was breaking her heart. She thought for sure all their problems would evaporate the instant they weren't superheroes anymore.

"Rogue…. Rogue?... _Rogue!_ Help me!"

She'd fallen asleep on the couch. The sun was up now, but she felt exhausted and startled. Honor was calling for her, sounding more afraid than hurt, and with brilliant concern, she walked down the hall to the young girl's bedroom. Honor's bed sheets were blood-soaked and the girl was curled up tightly in the fetal position. At first, Rogue went light with panic, but then her instincts kicked in. She kneeled and stroked Honor's red-gold hair.

"What's it feel like, sugah?"

"Like…" she closed her black and red eyes and grunted, "I ate glass… And it's dragging through my belly… Like someone beat on my back… Hurts down in my legs, I can _feel_ it in my bones… Like my clothes are too tight…"

"You got it bad, baby," she said calmly. "Stay here."

She ran a hot bath and carried Honor like an infant into the bathroom. She was slightly embarrassed to undress in front of Rogue, but she did it. From the side, Rogue noticed the girl looked like a young woman, and now she truly was. This was the first of many stings she'd suffer as an adult. Her mother should've been around to cross this bridge with her, but Rogue would do her best. She had failed the girl once before, just as Belle had, but she would not do so again. _Someone_ would share the secrets of adulthood with this girl…

Rogue carried her clothes to the wash and let them soak in cold water. Before finishing that chore, she brought Honor two Tylenol, fresh clothes and a heating pad. The girl was clearly relieved. Rogue didn't use pads, but she'd bought some when Honor arrived just for this day. It was a slight courtesy no one would ever suspect. After the bath water cooled, she moved Honor to the living room and set her up with pillows and blankets and sat by her side like a harem pet.

"It's okay, Rogue," she said sweetly. "Momma told me dis would happen… I ain't scared."

Rogue smiled and stroked her hair again. "It's worse when it's new. Won't always be this bad… My first period, Ah didn't tell anyone. Didn't think Ah could. Ah was scared and felt so alone… If Ah could go back and tell myself something, Ah'd say that it gets better. And Ah'd say that it's worth it in exchange for givin' life. And… it's better than the alternative."

Honor looked very serious and then burst out laughing. "I don't wanna be a _homme, non_!"

"_Non_!" Rogue shook her head and brushed her nose against Honor's.

"So… You want t' have babies?"

"Not any time soon," Rogue propped her head on her hand. "Why do you keep askin' me that?" She didn't get an answer, but the truth was in the inky depths of Honor's eyes. "You think your papa wouldn't love you anymore if he had a baby with me?..."

Honor tucked a lock of white hair behind Rogue's ear and spoke with unflinching courage. "You t'ink he don't love _you_ no more since I'm around."

"Ain't that exactly… You're his number one and two priorities now, and Ah'm use ta bein' up there. Ah don't mind, sug. That's the way it should be."

Honor took Rogue's hand and said, "It's okay. _I_ love you."

"Ah love you, too, baby." Rogue gathered together all her courage and held it close to her heart. "And it's 'cause Ah love you that Ah need ta tell you somethin' that might make ya feel uncomfortable, but Ah'd rather have ya hear it from me than anywhere else. Since you've had your period, ya can get pregnant now. And Ah know those boys told ya how babies are made, but Ah'm afraid they weren't bein' entirely truthful. There's a lot that leads up ta sex… First ya get ta talkin' about it and then ya get _close_ to it. Usually there's kissin' and touchin' like ya see in the movies, and that's all fine if you're an adult and ya want ta do it. But you're too young, sugah. Anyone ever tries that stuff with you, kick'm in the crotch and get your butt outta there."

Honor giggled and snuggled down, obviously listening to Rogue. So she continued, "One day you're gonna meet someone that ya care for more than anythin' else in the world. It'll likely be dangerous and forbidden 'cause that's how first loves tend ta go… But you'll know it in your _bones_ that you were meant for them. Sex ain't so bad. But ya should know goin' inta it that a baby is forever… and so are sexually transmitted diseases, which is why Ah use condoms!"

"So y' don't make a baby dat you'd have ta explain de birds and de bees to one day," Honor said with an impish smile. "Y' get t' tell it t' your _beau's_ kid instead."

"Kinda wonderin' how that worked out myself!" Rogue rolled her eyes.

"Y' did a _grandes_ job. No underage or unprotected fornication. Got it."

"Once you're grown, Ah can't rightly tell ya what ta do anymore. But ya know from goin' ta church and all that ya shouldn't have sex unless ya love the person. There's a good reason for that, trust me. Oh, it's excitin', sure… And it's amazin'… Ain't nothin' wrong with it, it's just a part of life… But there's somethin' nobody ever tells you about sex, Ah think it's supposed ta be a secret. See, when ya sleep with someone, even if ya love 'm and that's the person ya spend the rest of your life with, you're gonna get your heart broken. Hopefully, it only happens once, but it might happen every day. That's a ride ya don't wanna take with someone ya don't love."

Honor looked at Rogue silently, her black and red eyes tracing the outline of Rogue's face. Finally, she said, "What else?"

"That's all Ah got, but when Ah figure out some more, Ah'll be sure ta let ya know."

They spent the rest of the day in the living room, never far from the couch. When Honor got hungry, Rogue made her a sandwich. When they grew restless from chattering, they'd watch television, and when they grew bored with that, they napped. Every few hours, Honor asked for more Tylenol or a new heating pad. Otherwise, nothing happened until after dinner. Rogue had cooked cubed steaks and mashed potatoes, which Honor ate well enough; and spinach, which the girl had to be goaded into finishing. Normally, Rogue would've let her get away with it, but after today, her iron would be depleted and she needed to recuperate. (Yet another gesture gone unnoticed.) She even did the dishes, although Honor said she was feeling better and could do it.

"Ya just rest, sugah," Rogue said and began running the hot water.

Honor curled up like a kitten again and watched _Army of Darkness_. She'd just gotten settled when the front door opened and Remy walked in, smelling like leather and cigarettes.

"_Papa!"_ She screeched and leapt into his arms.

Rogue turned off the water and watched them. Remy held her fiercely and for a long time. Rogue smiled to herself, knowing he hadn't really missed her that much. He was fighting a lump in his throat. No one had ever greeted him thusly, and he cared for her more than anything in the world. Finally, he released her, looked her over and said, "Why you in your jammies? Ain't _dat_ late."

"I… I was feelin' a lil' sick today."

"_Oui?"_

"_Sí, sí._ But Rogue took good care of me."

"_Mais_…" He finally looked at Rogue and said, "I'm glad she's here."

…


	4. Sunday Sequel

**Disclaimer:** I do not own.

**Sunday Sequel**

"_Up, boy," Luc's harsh voice cut through the dark._

_Remy was up in an instant. Any longer and Luc would pour ice water in his ear and make him clean up the mess. It was the middle of the night, but Remy was used to sleeping just a few hours at a time anyway. He'd been like this all his life, since his earliest days with Fagan's crew. If he slept more than two or three hours at a time, someone would kick him for his spot or worse. Luc could be a hard-ass, but he wasn't cruel like the gutter boys… When he said mean things, his intention was to push Remy to do better because he wanted Remy to __**be**__ better. When he stole Remy's sleep, it was to train him on a Thief's schedule. Fagan's crew just wanted to make him cry, which he never did. They thought they could bring him to tears because he was the bébé, but now he had a home and a father and __**they**__ were still fighting for his old sleeping place._

_Secretly, he was glad the crew couldn't see him now. Life was better, but it wasn't any easier. Thieving was hard, learning to read was harder, and Luc was as impatient as he was generous. His new task master could reduce him to tears quicker than Fagan ever could. It wasn't because Remy was weak; he was __**frustrated**__. Henri taught him that word, and his wife said Jean-Luc made a lot of people feel that way. They all had a good laugh at it, but Remy understood their meaning. He got upset because he wanted to please Luc. There was no shame in wanting to deserve one's lot in life, so there was no shame in getting upset, either._

_Tonight, he told himself, he would get it right!_

After prayers, Honor climbed into bed and Remy tucked the blankets under her ribs. She folded her hands obediently and patiently waited for him to begin their final conversation for the day. He didn't much care for routine, but this had become his favorite part of the day. Every morning when he woke up, he wanted to tuck her in again. How many more nights would he get like this? He hoped to keep this up until she moved out at twenty-five, but that seemed highly unlikely. Even now, she looked more like a candidate for student president than his _tite fille_. He combed her hair with his fingers and remarked, "Y' need a haircut soon. Startin' t' look shaggy."

"My hair looks fine de way it is," she snapped and pulled at the ends, looking over the length with her fingers. Her bangs were past her chin now, when they should've ended half-way over her face. The defiance in her eyes died and resurrected as remorse.

Before she got too worked up (her emotions were mercurial at best), he said, "Medina was de jewel of de East in those days. De streets were clean, everybody got a meal and went t' school-"

"You said his soul was in _Mecca_," she corrected.

"Hush up and listen… Medina was where de wicked General Khalid lived, and dat's where he was gonna marry de Princess. People came from all over – princes and traders and even little orphan girls."

She gasped. "Cassim was dere, too, wasn't he? He went t' stop de Princess-!"

"Why he do dat?"

Her little brows knotted above her nose. "She didn't want t' marry de General… It was de D'Jinn!"

"Cassim didn't know dat. He thought maybe _he_ was de one she didn't want. She was wit' de General first, y' recall."

"But he's so _old_ and _mean!"_

"Marryin' him was de only way she could become a queen."

"She never cared about dat!" she argued. "She just wanted to be happy!"

"Dere many types a' happiness, _chere_… She was happy wit' Cassim 'cause he made her laugh and was always chasin' adventures. But General could give her a safe bed every night and buy her pretty jewels. You t'ink dos t'ings not make her happy, too?"

She studied him long and hard before blurting out, "Why can't she learn t' be happy wit' herself?"

Laughter erupted from his mouth, countered by her scowl. He stroked her hair and asked, "_You_ wanna tell dis story?"

"I _like_ de Princess… And I wanna _keep_ likin' her."

"Point I'm tryin' t' make is Cassim was pretty sore wit' de Princess and dat's why he didn't try t' stop de weddin'. Instead, he followed de angel t' Mecca t' find his soul. When Cassim sold his soul for magic, de sorcerer tried keepin' it in a bottle, but only blood can hold a person's soul, not walls or spells. When he passed on t' de afterlife, de judges couldn't decide t' put 'm in Heaven or Hell. So dey sent him back as a little girl named Aisha, and decided t' judge _her_ instead. Now, Aisha was special. Of course, all _femmes_ are, but dis _tite fille_ was especially so. Because she'd spent so much time in the afterlife, she came with magic even more powerful den Cassim's. She could sing down de stars. When she traveled t' Medina, all de rooms and houses were full a' travelers, and she had t' sleep on de roof top. Dat night, de General looked out from his window and saw de girl re-arrangin' de stars t' her biddin'. He knew wit' her, he'd never lose another battle again. If he owned her, she could just change fate t' his favor. So he sent his guards out to capture her and presented her as a gift for his bride."

"Why would he do dat? Give her away like dat?"

"_Mais_, he wasn't _really_ givin' her away. But he knew de Princess would keep de girl happy and she wouldn't try t' run away. And as soon as de Princess saw Aisha, she _knew_ she was Cassim's soul… She wanted t' protect Aisha forever, _especially_ from de General. She kept Aisha in golden cages, tied up in silk robes, and full on sweet dumplings. Every day de girl got to bathe in cool water, which was a luxury not even de Princess got. But wit' each passin' day, she got weaker an' weaker like a flower in de desert. See, de General knew her secret, too. He knew de D'Jinn would corrupt her like it had de Princess, and make Aisha his slave, too. De more time she spent wit' de Princess, de more de D'Jinn controlled her. De General's plan was workin'."

"Until…?"

"Until tomorrow, I t'ink."

He made sure she was comfortable and kissed her brow.

She smiled back. "You tell de _best_ stories."

"G'night, _catin_," he called from the doorway. He turned out the light and left the door cracked and foolishly hoped she wasn't afraid of the dark.

.::.

Not all bike rides were to avoid fights. Sometimes Honor rode to avoid their more… _snuggly_ days. Thankfully, they'd waited until she was feeling better. Rogue went and ran her mouth to Papa – told him why she was really "sick" – Honor knew, even though her father didn't say anything. It was just the way he looked at her now, like he'd lost something. Damn that shank! It was _Honor's_ business, not _Rogue's_, and _Rogue_ had no business telling _anyone_ about _Honor's_ business! But the deed was done now. Nothing could be done about it except learn. The moral of this story was: _don't tell Rogue_.

Remy didn't know Honor was upset; he didn't even suspect. And even if he did, he'd think she was just sour over her mother's death. That was the down side to sulking all the time – people came to expect it. No, he was as in love with Rogue as ever. It started the way it always did, with a _look_. Then came the flirting: words and gestures so obvious she couldn't ignore it. Finally – if Honor didn't leave for her own reasons – they'd supply a lame excuse and disappear in their room or the shower. _She_ had to use that shower, too! Thank God she didn't know exactly what went on in there; what she knew was bad enough! But the bedroom was even worse. She'd seen enough movies to know what sex sounded like: groans and bedsprings and whatnot… Oddly enough, she never heard Remy and Rogue. Never. (Maybe if she did, she wouldn't _catch_ them so often!) After they'd disappear, the house would go eerily quiet. And it stayed that way for thirty minutes, sometimes longer. Just when she figured the storm was past, so to say, the _whole house_ would start shaking. Pictures fell from the walls and dishes rattled in the cupboards. Still, no sounds. It was freaky. And possibly more disturbing than hearing something.

So when she noticed them sharing _the look_ first thing that morning, she grabbed her bike and fled. She didn't want to go down to the beach, where all the tourists were; or into town, where all her neighbors would want to chat. Instead, she found a new road that ran parallel to the coast. The wind kept her cool and palm trees lined the road, patching shadows every few yards. Otherwise, it was the highway that time forgot. Not a single car or pedestrian… Alone with her thoughts, she rode on. If this road started near her house, where did it end? Nowhere, apparently. She could've tested that theory, but the sun was beginning to turn. By the time she got back home, it would be setting, and Remy would be worried. He worried a lot. But before she turned her bike around, something ahead caught her attention. Lying in the road was a white mass: too big to be an animal, too small to be a person. She rode closer, but slowed her pace in case this thing was dangerous.

It was a dog, she realized sadly, and meant to turn away before she saw it's insides splattered on the pavement. She assumed it'd been hit by the only car that ever came this way. Again, her keen senses of perception called her attention. This dog had _not_ been hit, but attacked and mauled to death. Stranger yet, it was a pit bull. What sort of animal could kill such an infamously tenacious canine? A bear, maybe. Where there bears in Southern California? She didn't know, and she wasn't going to look for one, either. But this kill wasn't like a bear's… The dog hadn't been eaten for it's meat. It could've been a territorial kill, possibly a mother protecting her cubs, but would that fight have been carried out in the _street_? This was almost like… _a set up_… It was like a cat killing a mouse or a lizard and leaving it on the doorstep as a treat.

What sort of monster could destroy a pit bull as easily as a mouse?

A chill washed over her, despite the sun and summer heat. Definitely time to go! She turned her bicycle completely around and set her right foot to the petal when a voice stopped her.

"Goody, you look just like 'm… I was _hopin'_ you would."

His shadow completely eclipsed her. It was a monster – neither man nor beast, but the worst of both. He was a mountain of muscle with a lion's mane, enormous fangs, and limber legs that rippled understated power. He could speak and understand her, which meant he could figure out where she lived and her habits, and he'd probably _planned_ this. There was no doubt in her mind that if she ran (or rode), he could catch her. So she froze, waiting for him to make the first move.

"This means I get to kill 'm _twice_…" The beast approached but she held her ground and looked him dead in the eye. With a teasing smirk, he began to circle her. "I don't usually introduce myself to _lunch_, but in this case, I think it'll _add_ to the flavor. The first time your old man met me, he shit his pants and crawled like an animal for mercy. The only reason I let 'm live was 'cause I wanted an encore. See, that's my problem. Can't _kill_ 'm till I scare 'm shitless again. He won't mourn his own worthless life, but I bet he's pretty fond of _yours_."

When Honor was a very young child, her great-grandfather warned her against wildlife that might hurt her. Her memory shuffled through his wise words concerning snakes, wolves, boars, bears, and gators until she decided this beast was more _feline_ than anything: the giddy desire to torture was pretty rare among animals. The most important thing to remember was that _all_ animals could smell fear. They couldn't catch a single whiff or they'd already won.

She would _not_ be afraid!

She was the daughter of mercenaries, the descendant of survivors. Their resilience fortified her will. She would _not_ be gutted in the street like a dog!

"You don't scare me!" She yelled.

He might've mistaken her courage for bravado, but the sweet smell of an innocent's terror was snatched from his senses. There wasn't much pleasure in terrorizing children if they weren't terrified. He would rip her legs off and let her bleed out. _That_ would teach her a lesson about stealing from him.

"Don't worry, girlie… I ain't all bark."

She saw him coming slowly: the lips peeled away from his fangs, his grasp seemed inevitable.

"_LEAVE ME ALONE!"_ She shrieked.

He hesitated, probably more startled than anything.

"I said, 'leave me alone!'" She yelled again, this time leaning towards him as if to meet his attack. "Now leave! _GO!"_

He was making a funny face. His darkened pupils shrank down to the size of BB rounds and his nostrils flared. But he wasn't doing what she told him to – he just remained frozen, so she tried a more direct order.

"Go home! GO!"

Looking baffled, he turned and ran off into the surrounding brush.

She rode back so fast that she could've flown. No matter how hard she pushed the pedals, she always felt that brute at her back. He was always about to deal the death blow. She didn't even feel the cramps in her side or her fingers going numb from gripping the handles so hard. She couldn't feel anything but panic.

Once in the yard, she threw down her bike and sprinted for the door. She still felt shadowed, and worse, Remy wasn't waiting outside for her like he normally would be. The house was too dark and quiet; what if they'd left and locked her out? What if that lion-man caught up to her? What if they decided to just abandon her? He would find her here alone and chase her through the house, cutting her down slowly and leaving her blood on the walls. How long would she lay cold before anyone found her? Who would read her the Last Rites?

"Papa!" she cried out and burst through the door. A quick glance around the living room revealed nothing and she panicked again. _"Papa!"_

Suddenly, he was there: strong arms and the soothing smell of tobacco. "What happened, _catin_?"

"Remy, she's white as a ghost!"

"Did y-"

She felt weak and sick, and in the next instant was throwing up on her father's shirt. He looked down and then back at her. When she tried to apologize, more vomit spewed from her mouth. He rushed her outside, where she threw up twice more on the grass. She felt too drained to even keep her eyes open. Only fear kept her semi-alert.

Rogue moved silently and deftly: stripping Remy's shirt and then bringing a cool wash cloth for Honor. Once her tummy stopped quivering, she accepted a glass of water, and then answered their questions. She told them about the man who cornered her, and her father said his name was Sabretooth. He wanted to know everything the horrible beast said to her, but her memories were jumbled. At the time, everything seemed to happen so slowly, but now that she re-examined what she knew, she realized a lot of time was missing. His exact words had slipped away, as if her mind refused to hear them, but he still managed to imprint a feeling of helplessness and terror. Remy kept pushing and pushing her to remember details until finally Rogue pleaded with him.

"She doesn't _remember_, sugah. Let her rest, and Ah'm sure it'll come back."

But Honor was too afraid to be left alone with her thoughts. Her father let her set up a make-shift bed in the living room, where she could watch a Star-Trek marathon all night. It was the original series with William Shatner – not his favorite, but he sat up with her anyway. During the commercial breaks, he made sure she was comfortable, and before she finally submitted to slumber, he promised not to leave. Periodically, she reached out from her sleep and grabbed his hand, which was always there.

…

"_Oui_… _Oui_… Dat's what she said…"

Honor shifted quickly from a light sleep to jittery awareness. As her eyes opened, her feet found the floor and carried her to her father's room. She'd never gone in because she'd never been invited, but this time, she didn't hesitate. She pushed the slightly ajar door open and walked to her father, who was sitting on the bed and talking on the phone. He wrapped an arm around her and she relaxed again, suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. She could've slept sitting up like a cat – her head on his shoulder and her legs tucked under her bottom. Through the haze, she heard him conclude his phone conversation.

"_Catin_…" He stroked her hair and she lifted her eye lids. "Dat was Professor Xavier, de man I work wit' in New York. He traced Sabretooth, said he's headin' t' Canada. He's long gone, but dey're gonna keep track a' him just in case. Xavier's sendin' a team after 'm t' question and detain 'm, so you ain't gotta worry 'bout 'm anymore, _d'accord_?"

She knew he was being truthful, but he didn't seem anymore assured than he had been last night.

"They _shoulda_ done it a long time ago," Rogue said softly, but with an edge in her voice. Then, with that same tried tone, she encouraged them both to sleep.

Honor had never felt safer and her father promised not to leave. But her dreams were haunted by the sounds of tortured screams and bloody hand prints on brick walls. She kept seeing Sabretooth's fangs in the shape of a smile and his claws swinging at her belly – the slowest and most painful death. He didn't get her, but he did get another girl. She slipped right out of Honor's grasp and fell into the abyss. The brick walls were closing in on her, stifling and overwhelming her with the smell of dead blood. He was closing in on her again and the walls were sealing off her exits. She could hear his feet splashing around in the blood, his laughter echoing through the halls, and feel the shadow of his claws on her flesh.

A sharp whacking sound tore her gasping from her sleep. She was drenched in sweat and alone once more. Through the window, she saw the sun setting, and then looked around for her father.

Someone was knocking at the door.

Honor didn't know where she was, didn't know what time it was, and didn't know why she was alone when he'd promised not to leave…

Through his opened bedroom door, she saw him approach the front door. He peaked through the peep hole, sighed, and then opened the door. A young woman with shortly cropped magenta hair and antlers framing her face like a heart entered. She wore a pair of comfortable jeans, an old jacket, and carried a back pack: evidence of a long journey. But counter to his nature, Remy didn't invite her to take a seat or make herself comfortable. Instead, he complained.

"Sarah… Why you not call?"

"Why _should_ I? I got here alright."

"We weren't-" Rogue stammered, "-expecting guests!"

Sarah watched Rogue try to quickly pick up Honor's make-shift bedroom in the living room – blankets, pillows, glasses and dishes.

"Oh, don't bother, Rogue… I've seen worse. Actually, that nest looks pretty inviting."

Honor ran again to her father and wrapped her arms around him.

"Sugah, you've got a fever," Rogue tried to warn her.

He picked her up like a little girl, his stale clothes dampening from hers. At that, Rogue shut up and waited patiently for the moment to pass.

"This her?" asked Sarah, the newcomer.

"_Oui_," Remy said. "Dis is Honor… _Chere_, dis is Sarah Rushman, an old student a' mine."

Honor slid out of his hold and observed the woman, who smiled kindly.

"Not that old… Barely graduated!" Sarah said. "But your father's the closest thing I have to family since Sabretooth slaughtered them all-"

"Marrow, please-"

"And when Cyclops asked for volunteers to pursue him, I was the first to offer assistance… But there's a lot of politics involved in superhero teams, believe it or not. Since your old man doesn't have the pull around Salem Center that he used to have, Cyclops doesn't care about the success of Gambit's protégés."

"Maybe he thought you wouldn't be able to resist pullin' the trigger," said Rogue, "Given your history an' all…"

"Funny, that's just what he said… Anyways, I think I'm in the right place. If he comes back, it means Storm and her team failed. If that happens, you _want_ me to pull the trigger, don't you?"

"Quick as you can," Remy said.

After that, life was never the same for them in Valle Soleada. It wasn't because of Sarah – if anything, she brought normalcy. But there were no more bike rides alone or trips to the beach unaccompanied. They all stayed in the house, piled on top of each other and as trapped as if snow blocked the door and windows. It took Honor two days to recover from her fever, which luckily, no one else caught. She was so terribly sick that she suffered hallucinations. Mostly, she dreamed about Sabretooth coming back for her, but sometimes she dreamed about the tunnels, too. One night, she saw Rogue and her father speaking to each other. Honor knew it was a hallucination because they never spoke so frankly around her.

"I know it'll hurt her, but she deserves t' know," Remy said. "She's here riskin' her life for m' girl outta love for me. I can't let her do dat not knowin'-"

"And Ah know this makes me the world's biggest hypocrite, but you _can't_ tell her now. Sarah ain't the most _stable_ person in the world. Ah wouldn't put it past her to hurt Honor outta spite."

"Me, maybe. I deserve it. But she'd never hurt Honor."

"Sug, Ah'm _beggin'_ you. Sarah's _finally_ in a good place… She's puttin' it behind her… Let her move on."

As Honor's fever subsided, the visions faded, too. The day flowed easily into a boring routine. They were all watching daytime shows in the living room when she finally snapped.

"Papa, could I walk down to de beach?" she was too restless to stay inside anymore.

"I'll take her," Sarah quickly piped up, as if this were the chance she'd been waiting for. Without Remy's consent, she picked Honor up by the wrist and led her to the door.

Honor stopped and looked to her father.

"It's okay," he nodded. "Just don't be gone long."

For his bravery, she smiled.

Honor didn't think Sarah had ever been to the beach before. She walked down to the coast in her jeans and boots and slid around in the sand like a fawn on ice. Some of the older boys, who liked to flirt with Rogue, made fun of Sarah, and Honor instantly pitied her.

"Try taking your boots off," she suggested.

Sarah did and they walked along the surf. They stood out as fully dressed mutants, but they settled into a comfortable pace and didn't linger long.

"Where're you from?" Honor asked, wishing she'd thought to grab her sun glasses.

"Why?" Sarah snapped.

She shrugged, "Obviously not from de wetlands…"

"No, I'm not," Sarah said coldly. "My earliest memories place me in New York's sewer systems. I lived there with a group of genetic rejects until someone decided we didn't deserve to live, not even like rats… Sabretooth was among the group hired to slaughter us. I don't remember how I escaped. For a short time after that, I tried living on the surface, but it wasn't for me. Those who survived the massacre returned to the Alley. It was the only place that ever felt like home to me. It was the only place I was ever happy… When I was still very young, there was an accident in the Alley. We were all transported to another dimension where we were forced to fight for survival. I survived, but… I wish I hadn't. I killed a lot of people who deserved life more than me. When I was sent back to Earth, I kept killing because it was all I knew. The X-Men – the people your father thinks so _highly_ of – wanted to kill me. He was the only one to show me an _ounce_ of kindness. He's all I've got… in _this_ world. And he doesn't even notice me." She smiled coldly and said to herself. "Why _should_ he?"

Honor picked up a sea shell and showed it to Sarah. "See dat dere? It's a fossil, an imprint from somet'ing dat's been dead for millions and millions of years. But in a way, it's still here, still makin' its mark."

Sarah held the object and studied it. "Beast taught me about symbolism. That's what you're trying to do, isn't it?"

"No, I'm just tryin' t' change de subject."

They smiled and Sarah hurled the shell back into the ocean. "I apologize if I've said anything to upset you. I seem to lack certain emotional boundaries."

"It's okay. I don' mind… T'anks for comin', too. I t'ink Remy woulda locked me in de cellar if not for you."

"Your old man's saved enough dames in his day," Sarah shrugged. "'Bout time someone started returning the favor… But you'd do better to learn to fight for yourself."

"I can!"

Sarah looked at her sideways. "I guess you didn't survive a scrape with Creed with pure _luck_. Alright, let's see what you've got." She put her hands together in front of her chest, both palms facing Honor. Her elbows were braced to withstand a strike. "Hit me."

Honor only hesitated for a moment and then punched Sarah's palms.

"Not bad," she shook the pain out and replaced her hands. This time, they were covered with the same bony substance that framed her face. "Now try again."

"What is dat?"

"Hit me."

"You sure?"

"Do it."

Honor swung from below and struck her abdomen. Then she placed a left hook across her cheek. Sarah stumbled back and nearly fell into the ocean.

"Are you okay?" Honor fretted. "I _did_ try t' warn you…"

"You're not bad for a little girl," Sarah smiled and rubbed her jaw. "Who taught you how to fight?"

"Momma," she answered sadly. "She said I didn't have what it takes. I'm too _sentimental_."

"Says her. But I bet if Creed comes back, you'll make a nice floor rug out of him. Now let's see what you've got. Don't hold back."

Honor struck Sarah a few more times, and again she fell rather easily. It felt… _good_. Some well-meaning people investigated, but Sarah dismissed them with a wave and said it was all in sport. Then they were back to sparring. Honor felt forgotten parts of herself stirring to life: not just muscles, but that killer instinct. Her knuckles bruised and busted open, but she kept pounding and her body flushed with pleasure to compensate. At last, Sarah fought back – blocking her hits, knocking her feet out, and throwing her in the shallow holds of the sea. Sightless and airless, Honor kicked Sarah's stomach and flung her into the water. They both struggled back to their feet. Sarah was giddy and bright-eyed. Honor forced herself to laugh, confused by the warm salty water dripping from her own face.

Beating the crap out of Sarah left her feeling worlds better than shopping or talking or forming new bonds with Remy or Johnny. Honor's only regret was that she didn't dish this out to Sabretooth and her mother's murderers, who _deserved_ it. She was going to leave that sentimental little girl here for the ocean to wash away.

…


	5. Sunday Sequel Part Two

**Disclaimer**: I do not own.

**Sunday Sequel - Part Two**

_Remy had to get his heart out of his ears: it thundered like a race track. And if Julien or Old Man Marius came his way, he needed to know. He wasn't afraid of them, but he'd promised Jean-Luc he wouldn't see Belle anymore, and he wanted Luc to think he'd kept that promise. In his defense, he'd __**tried**__. Truly, he had. But there was a yearning in his heart and groin so powerful that it overrode his desire for honor, approval, and even his desire to survive. If her bosom was his death pillow, so be it._

_Ten days prior, Old Man caught him in Belle's room. He promised to kill Remy if he tried to disgrace her again. While his threats didn't bother Remy one bit, they'd put the fear of God in Luc. It was the first time he'd ever beaten his adopted son, for all the good it did. Henri's taunts hurt him more. His brother had been ruthless – asking him what Marius thought of his birthmark (on his derriere), and if Julien was his romantic rival. Mercy laughed obnoxiously at all his bad jokes, driving Luc further into his fury, and making Remy feel even more alone. They didn't care about him like Belle did, they didn't respect him. _

_So in the dead of night, he snuck up to her room. He didn't find her sleeping as he expected. She sat at her little shrine to her late father, crying her eyes out._

_For a moment, his heart dropped. If she was pregnant, his father was __**really**__ going to kill him…_

"_Dey're sendin' me away, Remy!" she sobbed. "T' St. Bernadette's in Baton Rouge!"_

"_Threats, Belle – we heard'm before."_

"_No! Old Man's already paid my first semester an' bought de uniforms! What are we gonna do?"_

_His heart raced again, urging him to do what he did best. "We'll run away, chere… Just you an' me. I know where Luc keeps his cash… We'll go t' Mexico, Argentina – wherever you want. We'll start over, just you an' me. We'll leave de Guilds behind, see de world, like we always wanted. C'mon, we can leave t'night."_

"_Remy… I don' wanna go t' Baton Rouge an' I don' wanna go t' Mexico… __**N'awlins**__ is my home!"_

_He knew his kisses wouldn't persuade her, but if this was their last night together, he would make it count. In her arms, he became acutely aware of his heartbeat, knocking against hers until the rhythm fell in sync. It was the most intimate act he'd ever shared._

…

"Looks like you two had a good time…"

Sarah and Honor were soaking wet when they returned to their little house by the beach. Remy handed them towels and proceeded to dry his hair with a towel draped around his neck.

"Ditto," Sarah smirked. "Or do you often shower mid-day?"

He kissed Honor's temple as if he hadn't heard. "Go inside and get you some water, _catin_, you- What happened t' your hands?"

"We were just playin'," she shrugged. "I smell smoke… Is Rogue cookin' tonight?"

"Be a champ an' pretend it's de best t'ing you ever ate," he whispered and kissed her again.

She skipped away, leaving him alone with Sarah. He watched as she stripped away her soggy jeans and smiled at him without any trace of awkwardness. He noted the faint marks along her face that matched Honor's damaged knuckles, and sensing his concern, she turned away. She'd come a long way from the violent recluse with self-image issues, but she still didn't like to accept pity. People like Sarah didn't want anyone to know their weaknesses.

"Are you gonna be in the doghouse for staying out here?" she asked him.

So she'd noticed that Rogue never left him alone. Remy quickly created a cover that was only half a lie. "It ain't you she's worried about."

"She doesn't think you can take me?" she said with half-a-lie of humor in her tone.

"It ain't dat, either, Sarah… Rogue doesn't know what she's about most days. I wouldn't pay her no mind."

"She was like this in Antarctica, too! No matter how much I helped, it was never enough for her. She always kept me at arm's length. Is she like that with everyone, or just us tunnel dwellers?"

To his credit, he didn't flinch when she mentioned it. She was referring to the attempted rescue mission, of course; after Rogue had abandoned him there. If he were Sarah, he'd go mad not knowing why the argument happened or what it was about. He'd keep digging until he reached the truth. But not Sarah. She was content to level all the blame on herself: the X-Men hadn't told her because she wasn't one of them. Never would she suspect her mentor had had a hand in the massacre of her family.

This was the closest she'd ever come to asking him for details, and as much as he'd railed against Rogue to allow him a confession, he found the deed difficult to complete. He cherished these last, sweet moments that Sarah still looked at him fondly.

"_Chere_," he sighed, "I want t' tell you somet'ing. Really, I do. But I know y' don't wanna hear it and I know it's gonna hurt."

"So don't tell me," she said wearily, shrugging carelessly. "I don't _have_ to know everything, Gambit." She hesitated before adding, "I'm not _Rogue_."

…

Dinner unfolded around a crowded table made for two, glasses, forks, and plates knocking against each other like an orchestra preparing the instruments for a performance. Voices joined in, teasing and laughing earnestly. It was an odd ritual that Sarah didn't entirely comprehend, but once she got past the vanity of it all (these tools weren't necessary for consumption), she began to see the point. Gathering together to eat meant sharing food in equal parts, which was honest and generous. Knowing meals would always be provided created security. The downright useless rituals of consumption – like removing the napkin from the table to the lap and asking to be excused – was what put humans above animals. They weren't here to merely fulfill a need; they were here to strengthen their emotional bonds.

The complexities of human relationships continued to amaze her. While she was telling an elaborate story about Department H offering her a place on their team and her opinions on the matter, Gambit gave his girlfriend a sly smile. His leg brushed against Sarah's – who he obviously mistook for Rogue – making Sarah blush from roots to collar. Rogue shot him a dirty look, and Honor picked up the conversation, oblivious to everything. Eventually, Sarah spoke again, about a fellow she'd met and been intimate with. This made Rogue and Gambit very uncomfortable, but why? Had they not been sharing such thoughts towards each other?

Honor responded with direct questions about Sarah's affair, which made her father blush furiously. He quickly sputtered about Honor needing a special "suit" for the beach. This put the girl in a sour mood, which Sarah was beginning to suspect was an intentional ploy to change the topic of conversation.

She couldn't understand why people always said and acted contrary to what they thought and felt.

…

Dinner was wrapping up, which meant in ninety minutes, Honor would start getting ready for bed. She never had to be told. Between seven-thirty and eight, she'd take her bath, brush her teeth, and spend some time with Remy before finally settling down at nine. If Rogue was going to get some private time with the girl, she would have to seize it soon. Why hadn't Remy said he wanted to take Honor clothes shopping _before_? Oh, he never included her on anything with his daughter – not the important stuff, and not the things he considered trivial, either. But taking Honor out to buy underwear had been as difficult as scraping dried gum off the bottom of a sneaker. And no one was even going to _see_ her it in! Trying to get her into a bathing suit was going to be agonizing. Remy had no idea what he was in for, but Rogue knew the girl already had her feet dug in. If he took her to every store in California, she'd reject them all!

Rogue knew she needed to coax Honor a little, but that meant getting her alone… Which meant leaving Remy alone with Sarah… Which meant he might confess his role in the Morlock Massacre to her…

When the X-Men found out, they'd been livid with him: for the act and the lies concealing it. Rogue had tried to kill him afterwards, and as much as she regretted it now, she _hadn't_ been out of her mind. She knew what she was doing. Sarah? Well, Sarah was only sane for Remy. If she lost that, she would regress into a homicidal psychopath again, and the X-Men would have to finish what Sinister started. It wasn't fair to Remy or Sarah, but it was truth.

Still, Rogue couldn't live the rest of her life without exhaling.

She found her opportunity after dinner. Sarah wanted to help, but her idea of finding dinner was digging through a trash can or waiting for someone else to mysteriously create something and bring it to her, with strict instructions on how it was to be consumed. So Remy led her to the sink and showed her how to rinse the dishes after he'd washed them. While they were detained, Rogue excused herself.

"Think Ah'm gonna give Honor my conditioner… The salt water's been tearin' her hair up."

She heard Honor running her bath water through the door, but knocked anyway.

"Sugah? Can Ah come in a sec?"

A moment later, Honor cracked the door and let Rogue slide in. The girl had a towel wrapped around her little bust and held it desperately – like some random breeze would rip it away! Ignoring her silly modesty, Rogue fetched a special conditioner from under the sink.

"Try this, after you wash your hair. It'll make it look softer."

Honor took the bottle, looked at Rogue and said seriously, "Won't bleach de front, will it?"

Rogue wanted to hit her until Honor's mouth twitched with a smile. Then she smiled, too.

"You're a very pretty girl, sugah, but there's nothin' wrong with usin' things that make ya look better… Ah know you really don't wanna go shoppin' with your papa tomorrow, but he's right. Ya can't wear pants forever."

Her red and black eyes disappeared as he chin dropped to her chest. "It ain't dat I don't want to… It's just… All de other girls my age are shavin' dere legs…"

Rogue struggled not to smack her own forehead. _Of course!_ How could she have missed something so obvious! Maintaining her composure, she said, "Ya could've just asked, baby! Here, use one of mine. Ever watched your papa shave? You'll do it just like that, but on your legs. And take it easy. Ya won't feel it, but if you take it too quick or hard, you'll nick yourself. Ah've cut myself good a few times…"

"Okay," she shifted uncomfortably, apparently out of things to say. A moment later, she turned the water facets off and looked at Rogue dismissively.

But Rogue felt there was more to be said. "Ah used to steal my momma's razors. She didn't want me shavin' my legs till Ah was thirteen, can ya believe that?"

"Dat's what Momma said, too!"

"Ah thought so... Sometimes Ah thought my momma wanted me to act like a grown-up but look like a kid forever. Now Ah kinda think she was just tryin' to preserve my childhood as long as she could. Once it's gone, it's gone for good."

Honor sat on the side of the tub and submerged her feet and calves in the hot bath water. Looking over her shoulder, but not quite at Rogue, she said, "Momma never treated me like a _kid_. When I got hurt, she just told me t' pick myself up. When I got sick, she left me alone. I had t' get my own drinks and clean up my own throw-up. Last year, I got dese purple marks on m' thighs and started growin' hair… She picked on me…" Quietly, she concluded, "I don't t'ink she ever wanted t' be a mother…"

Rogue could think of nothing _good_ to say about Belle, but she knew better than to speak poorly of her. She had a bad mother, too, but she wouldn't stand to hear anyone _else_ say so. Instead, she stroked the back of Honor's long hair and said kindly, "Ah ain't your momma. If ya need someone to talk to, Ah'm here."

Suddenly, her eyes flashed with the accusation of _'liar!'_, and she snapped, "I _know_ who you are!"

Rogue backed away slightly. Where had this anger come from?

"Ah'll let ya get to your bath." She left and, hearing Honor lock the door behind her, wondered if she hadn't made things worse.

.::.

Remy offered Sarah the couch in lieu of a bed. She declined, and everyone wondered where she would sleep. The first night, they found her _under_ the couch without a pillow or blanket. The second night, she'd completely vanished. The house wasn't _that_ big – had she gone after Sabretooth on her own? Rogue found her bag, so they decided that wherever she was, she planned to return. The slight drama made Honor hopeful that her father wouldn't take her shopping, but no, he remembered. While he made his smoochy good-byes to Rogue, she fetched her boots from the shoe closet.

Suddenly, Sarah leapt from the shadows, gripping Honor's wrist and brandishing a jagged bone. Honor pulled back and screamed, startling everyone. Instinctively, she kicked the weapon from Sarah's hand, and the older girl released her grasp.

In a flash, Remy was between them.

"Marrow, what de hell are y' doin'?"

"I'm sorry, Gambit, I got nervous."

He exhaled heavily, as if he understood, but didn't forgive her. "Come outta dere. Are y' okay?"

"This place is too… _open_."

Honor quickly closed the door behind Sarah. If her father saw the bone-dagger, he might tie Sarah to the front of a train.

"It's a wonder you don't all get your throats cut while you sleep," Sarah continued, surveying the ceiling with some alarm.

"Said y' came t' _help_," he said impatiently. "You _ain't_ helpin'."

"Remy, she said she was sorry," Rogue implored.

It was difficult to sympathize with someone who was perpetually paranoid, and Rogue refused to nurse her behavior with special attention. Rather, she returned to the recliner, where she'd been reading a novel by the sunlight. Finding her book mark, she said, "Ya'll better head out. If ya wait till lunch time, all the deals'll be gone."

His eyes looked at her and then Sarah again. Obviously, he was trying to decide if a powerless Rogue could handle a manic Marrow. Rogue was more than capable, but Sarah was his student. He felt responsible for both of them, and could circumvent a fight by merely standing in their way. Perhaps, then, he needed to stay.

Rogue smiled. "We'll be fine, sugah. Go on, get."

…

_I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
Your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_

These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase

With some force, Remy turned the radio off. From the side, he noticed Honor fidgeting with the little golden cross around her neck. It was a confirmation cross, and while it could've belonged to anyone, Remy knew it had once belonged to Belle. It had belonged to her father before her, and after his sudden and unexpected death, it passed to her. Now it belonged to Honor. Belle had worn it every day of her life, as he suspected Honor would. He knew it was a memorial token to her, but it seemed much more cumbersome to him. For all the memories it carried, that tiny, golden cross might as well have been eight feet tall and a hundred pounds.

"Penny f'r your thoughts, _catin_?"

She turned her attention from the passing scenery and said, "I heard dat when a parent dies and leaves behind a child, dat kid has mental issues when dey grow up."

"Where'd you hear dat?"

"I read it somewhere," she shrugged.

"You t'ink dat's gonna happen t' you?"

"_Tal vez_… Maybe not. You didn't have any parents till you were m' age. And Momma's papa died when she was little, and she turned out okay."

He pulled into the mall parking lot and felt her anxiety rise. For the first time since she'd come into his life, he worried for her sanity. How could she talk about such things with such serenity? It was like she'd already accepted it…

He gently took her hand. "Hey, you get lost… I'll find you."

"Like I found you?"

"_Oui, petite_. _Now_ we find you a bathin' suit."

As they stepped out of his little red convertible, the sun nearly incinerated them. Honor quickly put her sunglasses on and Remy squinted against the glare. He never used to need them – unless he was trying to conceal his mutation – but without his powers, his vision wasn't as accommodating as it used to be. He wondered if Honor inherited that particular little trait, and he envied her for it. She quickly re-appeared at his side and took his hand as they crossed the street. He could feel the heat from the asphalt through his sandals, and it made him eager to return to the air conditioned shadows before an unfortunate slip left him with third degree burns on his tender flesh. They zipped through the parking lot and he opened the door, letting her pass first before following her into sweet relief.

"Where y' wanna start?" he asked.

They'd just happened to enter at the food court, the busiest section. Taking his hand impatiently, she walked on without a destination. The traffic grated on her nerves and drove her deeper into the depths of capitalist depravity. Eventually, the mass of bodies weakened, but she pressed on anyway. Without glancing through the windows, she vetoed every option. He couldn't let her race through the store and leave empty-handed, but he also didn't know how to confront her. She'd always been so _obliging_.

He put an arm around her, forcing her to slow down and observe her surroundings. To their left was an open, brightly lit store with anorexic manikins wearing tiny pieces of cheaply-made garments in the windows.

"_Charley Ross_," he sighed, "For the girl who _refuses_ to eat."

Her scowl melted into a reluctant smile.

The next store was much smaller, but what it lacked in space, it made up for with merchandise. The patrons turned sideways to pass each other and disappeared into the racks.

"Dat's what I need," he said, "Some plaid shorts. T'ink we can find some? 'Course, I'll need some pink shirts t' go wit' 'm."

"Wit' collars. Wide, stiff collars that pop," she tried to be serious, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

"And I might as well get a Bieber hair-cut while we here," he twitched his head to the left and tossed back his locks. "Maybe some guy-liner, too. Dat won't make me look queer, will it?... Seriously, who wears dis stuff?"

She laughed again, and the angry young woman melted away into his sweet little girl. Relieved at his honesty, she agreed, "Dis stuff _is_ pretty lame."

"_Mais_, we poke around a bit, and if y' don't see not'ing y' like, we move on."

At ease, she followed the main hall into a major department; he didn't know which one. On the inside, they all looked alike. He followed her through the women's business outfits, the men's collared shirts and the shoe department wordlessly. He was almost afraid that words would break the spell. The swim suits snuck up on her, startling her. She eyed them all from a safe distance, but didn't _touch_ anything. She didn't even peak at the sizes.

Finally, he dared to suggest something specific. "How 'bout dis one?"

She scrunched her nose. "Dat's somet'ing _Rogue_ would wear."

Cautiously, he put it back.

She continued on, meandering through rack after rack. She passed string bikinis, one-pieces, black suits, neon suits, floral patterns, halter-tops, tube tops, boy shorts, and thongs… They were running out of options.

"_Catin_, y' lookin' for… a particular _color_?"

Furious, she picked up a g-string bottom and asked with bright eyes, "Would **you** wear dis?"

"Don' t'ink it'd go wit' my eyes… Look, we got plenty of stores."

Defeated, she continued on through the men's suits, eyeing them with more patience. He was both excited and nervous about this prospect. On one hand, she really needed something to wear to the beach. On the other, it would be an outfit meant for a boy. Should he try to talk her out of it? The object was for her to look _less_ ridiculous, not _more! _

He suddenly felt entirely unqualified for the task at hand.

She stopped and slowly walked towards a dark grey garment. It resembled a shirt with short-sleeves and a high collar, but it was made of the same type of water-resistant rubber as a diving suit. It would be tight, but that didn't seem to bother her so he wasn't going to mention it. He watched her eyes examine it once, twice, three times over. She nodded solemnly.

"I like dis one."

"_D'accord_… But where's de rest of it?"

She chewed her lip, and for a moment he was afraid she'd suggest pants. Instead, she looked around and said, "Maybe I could… just get… like a bikini bottom… Would dat look funny?"

She was asking _him_ for _fashion advice?_

Pretending to carefully consider her question, he found himself nodding slowly. "Long as you wearin' _somet'ing_, I reckon."

She accepted his completely non-committal comment, and quickly proceeded to choose a black bottom, cut like regular underwear. He thought she'd look like a nun next to Rogue's bright string bikini, but kept his thoughts to himself. _Belle_ had never been so conservative… Even with her strict upbringing and religion-induced guilt, she'd never been too timid to throw on a swim suit and run with the boys. But Honor was a bird of a different feather: one he was certain wasn't _his_.

With the ordeal behind her, Honor returned to the quiet, thoughtful girl he knew. She wasn't interested in browsing, and neither was he. They'd finished their mission and proceeded to the exit together.

…


End file.
